


Eastside

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, F/M, Flirting, Football, Gay, Gay John Laurens, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Jock John Laurens, M/M, Medical, Panic Attacks, Romance, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "A specific player catches Alex's eye. Tall and muscled, the boy reveals a head of curly brown hair and a face full of freckles when he pulls off his helmet to take a swig of water. He shoulder-bumps another teammate after a particular funny joke, and Alex melts when he tosses his head back and laughs carelessly.The name on the back of the jersey says ‘Laurens’ and Alex is instantly intrigued."John Laurens is a runningback on the Eastside High School varsity football team. Alexander Hamilton is a transfer student, and a trainee on the Fieldside Sports Medicine program.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all. Hear me out...
> 
> I've had this sitting around in my fic folder for like, 80 years, so I might as well post it. I don't know if I'll ever end up continuing/updating/writing new stuff, but there's a few chapters for you all to enjoy.

August.

A wonderful time of year. All the trees are just beginning to turn to hues of orange and brown, the weather is becoming more bearable, and everything is pumpkin-spice scented.

School also resumes.

Nothing is a harsher reminder of one’s own insignificance than standing in a crowd of 3,000 highschool students. Especially when you’re a solid 12 inches shorter than all of them.

Alex shoulders his backpack, the thin strap digging into his shoulder through the meagre fabric of his t-shirt. He pushes through a cluster of freshmen, evident by their bright eyes and boundless energy, until he finds himself on the outskirts of the insane crowd.

He slips past a group of girls and manages to shoulder his way through the narrow gateway and onto the campus of Eastside High School.

The campus is pretty, Alex can give it that. The concrete is clean and there’s a bunch of planters and trees; the buildings are painted in neutral tones and the language building has spectacular architecture.

His view is interrupted when he’s surrounded by a crowd of seniors as they bound past him, yelling about their ‘last first day ever!’

He takes it as a reminder to get to class.

AP Spanish.

His first class.

The language building is even prettier on the inside; smooth tile floors and high ceilings with skylights - at least in the main hallway. The classrooms themselves are moderately average, yet nicely kept.

He takes a seat towards the front in the classroom as it begins to fill. The teacher, an older, short woman, seems very friendly and waves as the students file in.

“Hola! Bienvenidos a la clase de Español!”

Alex smiles.

The day flies by faster than he’d anticipated. His last class of the day, Advanced Sports Medicine, is the only one he’d been looking forwards to.

The teacher is a tall, brunette woman. She is, for lack of a better word, mild. Very kind. Alex likes her. Passive, shy, and very knowledgeable.

At 2:30 sharp, the final bell sounds and the campus is filled with screaming kids. The bell is meaningless to Alex, though, all it means is that it’s time for his after-school Sports Medicine program.

He doesn’t even have to change classrooms.

Since it’s the advanced class, their first day is just an intro to the rest of the year - there’s not much more to be taught, at this point. Just some review here and there. They all know enough to be effective fieldside doctors. The learning comes out in the field, for this class.

Except, since Alex is a transfer, he’s dubbed as a ‘trainee.’ It pisses him off to no end- he swears, he knows far more than any of these losers!

But, he stays quiet. Makes a good impression as a quiet, knowledgeable kid who will be ‘easy to work with.’

He doesn’t know how long he can keep it up.

But, he keeps reminding himself, this school is a fresh start, a clean slate. He’s going to make a good impression, get good grades, and graduate. College will be better, he says, it has to be. Highschool is a clusterfuck for everybody, right?

The class eventually packs up their fieldside bags and treks out to the football field, where the varsity football team is continuing their practices.

Angelica, a fierce woman with gorgeously curly hair, leans over and says to Alex, “They’ve been practicing for a few weeks, since before school started. Their first home game is Friday.”

Alex nods. “Are they any good?”

“Better than last year’s varsity team,” Angelica says after a moment of pondering. “The coaches did a bit of an overhaul on the team. We didn’t win one game last year. The good seniors all graduated, but we made sure to keep the good juniors on varsity and we handpicked a couple kids from junior varsity to be on this year’s varsity team. The JV team is a mess this year, though, so we’re banking on the varsity team to make us look good.”

It’s more information than Alex strictly needed but he’ll take it. He needs to learn as much as he can, as quickly as he can.

He helps the teacher, Mrs. S, set up the water cups, the med supplies, and the pop-up examination table. He works quickly and efficiently, even though his eyes are on the football players the whole time.

A specific player catches his eye. Tall and muscled, he reveals a head of curly brown hair and a face full of freckles when he pulls off his helmet to take a swig of water from a bottle. He shoulders another teammate after a particular funny joke and Alex melts when he tosses his head back and laughs carelessly.

The name on the back of the jersey says ‘Laurens’ and Alex is instantly intrigued.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sat around in my files; tidied it up a bit. Here ya are.

During practice, one kid trips over his own foot and goes down hard. Alex is given the honor of giving him a concussion test while another girl examines his ankle.

That would’ve been fine with Alex, had Mrs. S not been breathing over his shoulder for the entirety of the concussion testing. He’s new, but he swears, he knows what he’s doing. He’d been  _ captain  _ of the team at his old school, for God’s sake.

“Good,” Alex says with finality after assessing the poor kid’s balance. “You got a baseline reference?”

“Right here,” Angelica pipes up and hands a sheet of paper to Alex. “Just grabbed it from the coach.”

Alex scans it, compares it to his messily-scribbled notes, and writes the kid off with instructions to go home and take a nap. The football player scowls, grabs his helmet and wanders off the field.

Mrs. S nods in approval, and Alex feels a glow of pride.

Practice falls back into full swing. Drills, drills, more drills. Fumble the ball? Run a mile. More drills. Kids go down left and right, they stop by the med station, and then run right back onto the field. 

An hour later, Alex is taking his turn at the water station when Laurens drops by for a drink.

Alex hands him a cup, eyes trained on the sunkissed tone of his skin and the dotting of freckles - he’s mesmerized, so much so that he almost misses when Laurens winks playfully at him before running back out onto the field.

Angelica hums beside him, but all Alex can think about is the hazel tone of the boy’s sparkling eyes.

.

The pace of school picks up quickly over the next few weeks. Alex’s AP classes have him up until 2 AM most nights, since the FS Sports Med team has him out at school until 9/10PM every evening, even on some weekends.

And he absolutely loves it. He’s stressed, he’s sleep deprived, and he’s lost 10 pounds. He loves it. He’s  _ busy _ and there’s no time for anything other than school - no time to ponder family issues, his own issues, anything. He hasn’t had  _ time  _ to scratch up his arms and he hasn’t had  _ time  _ to have panic attacks.

He loves it.

He’s not the only one with a busy schedule. One kid already dropped out of the FSSM program after sleep deprivation caused him to fall asleep behind the wheel of his car on the way home. He didn’t get hit, he just fell asleep at a red light.

It scared the life out of him, though, and he dropped out of the program the next day.

Mrs. S has the kids on a rotating schedule. ‘Rotating’ is a very unfitting word to use, as it implies that the schedule has some sort of pattern, when it definitely does not. Mrs. S randomly assigns kids to random practices and prays they can show up on time.

Alex quickly finds himself covering for multiple kids, sometimes at the same time. His dedication is very clear, and some people take advantage of that. Sometimes someone will slip him a $20 so they can sneak off during varsity football practice and take a nap in their car.

Alex is cool with it. He loves the FSSM program. He also is quite fond of the football team - specifically, player #20, Laurens. He’s good at multitasking, so the times when it’s just him and  _ maybe  _ two other kids aren’t problems. He can fill up water bottles while helping a kid stretch his achilles. No problem.

It’s  just 8 PM when the football team coach calls for a break as he goes off to answer his phone. The team bounds towards the water station and Alex passes out cold water bottles. A few kids sit down on the exam table for a little break, and Alex is about to tell them off when he’s interrupted by Laurens.

The boy stands a solid 8 inches taller than Alex, at least 6’0 tall. Alex is 5’4, and suddenly conscious of his height. He clears his throat as Laurens smiles down at him.

“Can I get you something?” Alex mumbles, his brown eyes trained on a bird fluttering around in the distance- he can’t look at Laurens or he’ll turn bright red.

Laurens notices and turns to try and find what the boy is looking at. Alex quickly looks away.

“Uh, yeah, my achilles’ are kinda tight,” Laurens rubs the back of his neck. “So, yaknow?”

“Oh, sure.” Alex nods and gestures to the ground. Laurens eases himself down onto his back and holds his right leg up first.

Alex takes hold of the player’s leg, plants his feet in the astroturf and gently pushes against Lauren’s foot, effectively dorsiflexing his ankle.

The kid grunts, the stretch (expectantly) a bit uncomfortable. Alex eases up on the pressure for a moment and makes the mistake of glancing down and making eye contact with the boy. Laurens grins charismatically and Alex’s face flushes.

He lets the boy’s leg down and taps the knee of his other one, signaling Laurens to lift it up. Alex takes hold of it and repeats the stretch on his left foot.

He does one more round, a few seconds of stretch for both ankles, before helping the player to his feet. Laurens’ hand is soft and warm and envelops Alex’s hand easily- when he walks back out onto the field, Alex is left blushing and staring after him - wringing out his hand to rid it of the warm tingles coursing through it and up his arm.


	3. Chapter 3

September rolls around fast and without warning.

The first month of school is over fast, and the last few days bring a torrent of unit tests for Alex’s classes. He’s juggling flash cards and medical tape at every practice, running through Spanish vocab words while filling up water cups.

One evening at 8:00 he puts down his cards and sits on the edge of the exam table to just  _ breathe  _ for a moment. He rubs at his eyes tiredly.

A cold breeze washes over the field, rustling the trees bordering the bleachers and giving some relief to the players. Not to Alex, though, who shivers in a thin black polo with FSSM embroidered on the front pocket.

Laurens hops over to the water table and flashes a smile at Alex, who suddenly finds some warmth coursing through his body.

Practice ends pretty quickly. It’s Friday, and the coach wants to go home. So do the players. So does Alex.

Laurens lingers around the med area, even after his teammates have dispersed to go change in the locker rooms.

“Need some help packing up?” Laurens queries. Alex is all by himself- the other girl that had been assigned to this practice with him had ducked out halfway through under the guise of ‘feeling ill.’

“If you don’t mind,” Alex shrugs. He holds out a small cardboard box to Laurens. “Pour out all the water bottles and pack em in here.”

“You got it, doctor.” Laurens sets the box on the exam table and dutifully begins the task.

Alex fumbles and drops a roll of medical tape.

The two work in silence for the next five minutes until Alex finishes packing up all the various tapes, and goes to help Laurens with the bottles.

“I’m John, by the way,” Laurens comments mildly. “I’m assuming you’ve realized my last name.”

“You seem pretty sure that I pay a lot of attention to you,” Alex quips, looking up at Laurens- John, actually- with a mischievous smile.

The other boy huffs a laugh, making brief eye contact with Alex. His face glows in the pale light cast from the overhead lamps and his eyes reflect the sky.

Alex swallows and turns away.

“Anything else?” Laurens asks, closing the cardboard box and handing it to Alex.

“Nope,” the boy replies. “Thanks a ton!”

Laurens nods and runs off to the locker rooms.

.

It becomes a bit of a routine.

John sticking around to help Alex pack up after every practice. At first, he just packs the water bottles into the boxes, but then he ends up helping Alex roll up and arrange the tapes, and then he’s learning how to collapse the pop-up exam table, and then he’s helping Alex carry it all back to the athletic training room.

One night at 10 PM, after a rigorous practice that sent one kid home with a concussion and left another with a nasty burn from the astroturf, Alex is about ready to collapse. It’s only Monday!

He sways a bit as he packs the Neosporin back into the small first-aid kit, bracing himself on the exam table. Laurens glances up from where he’s finishing stuffing the water bottles into their boxes- he’s getting quicker at that- before darting to Alex’s side.

He places a solid hand on Alex’s shoulder to steady him, and effectively steals all the breath out of the boy’s lungs. Alex coughs and Laurens tilts his head, “Getting sick?”

“Better not be,” Alex grumbles, pushing off the table and allowing Lauren’s hand to slide off his shoulder- leaving tingles in its wake. “Don’t have time to get sick.”

“Do you even have time to sleep?” Laurens teases, giving Alex one more glance before starting to pack up the rest of the tapes.

“No,” Alex answers, deadpan serious, and the two burst into a fit of giggles.

They only take two trips from the field to the AT room, one to carry the exam table and one to drag all the boxes back. Alex nudges the door open with his foot, arms stacked high with cardboard boxes, and fumbles for the light switch with an elbow.

“I got it,” Laurens mumbles, slipping behind Alex to flip on the switch - and Alex feels his breath ghost across the back of his neck and he  _ shivers _ .

Alex drops the boxes on the shelf in the corner and turns to thank Laurens, like always, and finds himself almost nose-to-nose with the boy.

Laurens drags his hazel eyes up from Alex’s neck to his eyes and quickly plasters a smile on his face.  “Hey there.”

Alex huffs with a slight smirk and slides out of the way, shoulder brushing against Laurens’ chest. His heart skips.

The two bid each other goodnight and retreat back to their respective houses- Laurens back into his comfy bed and Alex back to his desk chair.

 


	4. Chapter 4

It’s the third home game of the year. The bleachers are filling up, the cheerleaders are practicing in the middle of the field, and the football players are just arriving.

They all come out with their varsity jackets on to guard against the cold. As they near the med tables, they shrug them off and lay them on the benches.

Alex is jealous of their big, cushy jackets as he shivers again. The FSSM program still hasn’t given out jackets yet, and Alex despises that fact.

Laurens takes note of his shivering friend and strides over, holding out his jacket. Alex, confused for a moment, blushes when he realizes Laurens’ intent.

“Take it,” he says. “I won’t need it. You can keep it warm for me.”

Alex laughs and thanks the boy quietly. The varsity jacket is thick and warm from Laurens’ body heat, and it’s far too big for Alex - evident when he slips it on. He loves it, though. Even if Laurens’ name is embroidered in big letters across the back. Maybe that’s why he likes it so much?

The game kicks off with Eastside scoring two touchdowns in one quarter. One had been Laurens’ own doing. Alex had clapped extra hard for that one, and had blushed furiously when Laurens hadd flashed a thumbs-up at him when he’d jogged back over to his position on the field.

Halftime comes quickly, and Eastside is leading 14 to 7. Laurens is beaming- it’s been a good game for him, so far. He trots over to where Alex is leaning against the exam table and grabs a water bottle before hopping up and sitting beside Alex.

He looks down at his friend with a half-smile, nudging his shoulder. “Liking the jacket?”

Alex fumbles over his words before managing to choke out, “Y-yeah. Thanks. Haven’t shivered once.”

Laurens nods approvingly, taking off his helmet to chug some water. His curls are tied back in a ponytail, and as Alex watches, he lets them free and shakes out his hair - to cool off, presumably.

Moments later he ties his honey-brown hair back again, jams on his helmet and smirks at Alex before bounding back out onto the field.

The third quarter brings multiple penalties and a sprained ankle. Alex and Monty, a small kid enjoying his first time working a game, help the player off the field and set him up on the exam table. The third quarter finishes with no change in score and a few of the players come crowd around the poor kid with the messed up ankle.

Alex pries off the kid’s shoe and sock, palpating the already-swollen ankle. He does a few special tests before stabilizing it with some tape and ordering the kid’s parents to take him to the doctors for some crutches.

The team disperses after the kid leaves, except for Laurens, who comments passively, “It’s fascinating to watch you work.”

“All I did was touch some kid’s foot,” Alex laughs as he peels off his latex gloves and drops them in the trash can. “Hardly glamorous.”

Laurens shrugs before mumbling quietly, “I think it’s hot.”

“Touching someone’s feet?” Alex chokes on air as he stifles a bark of laughter.

“N-no!” Laurens stutters- it’s the only time Alex has seen him at a loss for words- before breaking out in a grin. “You know what I mean!”

Laurens swats Alex on the arm before sprinting back out onto the field.

It’s only then that Alex comprehends that Laurens had outright called him hot.

.

Alex is so flustered for the rest of the night that he totally misses when Laurens scores another touchdown. His teammates leap up and clap the 6’0 boy on the back, and Alex is staring at the ground.

He looks up in time to see Laurens make eye contact with him, and then turn away disappointedly. Alex feels guilty heavy in his chest.

The game ends at 21 to 7 and the Eastside players go home happy.

Laurens drops by the med station before leaving with the rest of his teammates.

“Thanks for letting me borrow your jacket,” Alex says with a little smile. He shrugs it off and holds it out to Laurens, but the boy doesn’t move to take it.

“Keep it for now, I’m plenty hot,” Laurens says. It’s true, his chest is heaving and he’s slick with sweat.

Alex tosses him a sweat rag and he grunts his appreciation.

“Hey, the team’s gonna head out to eat... yaknow, celebrate,” Laurens mentions, and then pauses, as if pondering something. “Wanna come?”

Alex is taken aback. He has to go home, study for his vocab test tomorrow- and God, he’s so tired! Plus, he doesn’t have any money, so he couldn’t even get himself food-.

“Sure,” he answers cooly. “Let me just pack up super quick.”

Monty pipes up from a few feet behind Alex, “I’ve got it! You’ve worked hard tonight. Plus, I got nowhere to be.”

“If you’re sure…” Alex glances at the kid before turning to face Laurens, false confidence painted all over his face.

“Totally! Go hang with your boyfriend,” Monty teases, grabbing a box of tape.

“He’s not my-.”

“Why does your jacket have his name on the back?” Monty quips, his blonde hair flopping in front of his teasing blue eyes. “Just teasin’ ya. Go on, I’m good here.”

Alex’s cheeks are positively rosy after that exchange, and the tips of his ears heat up when Laurens drapes an arm around his shoulders and they follow after the rest of the team.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The whole team convinces the coach to just take one of the smaller busses and drive them all to one of the local diners. With a large team and a small bus, most people are sharing seats- Alex finds himself squished between the window and Laurens.

He’s pretty okay with it. Laurens is warm.

He stays quiet, a bit out of his comfort zone in a bus full of football players- he feels a bit anxious, but calms when Laurens glances over at him and squeezes his knee.

The bus pulls up to the diner in no time, and Laurens grabs Alex’s forearm to steer him through the assembling crowd. “This way.”

They sit down on one side of a booth- Alex again pushed up right next to Laurens when another player tries to squeeze in on that side. Hercules Mulligan. He’s a talented fullback, if Alex remembers correctly.

The whole team orders food, and the previously quiet diner fills with hoots of laughter and jokes and the excitement of the aftermath of a well-played, well-won game.

Alex is living for it- because he keeps seeing Laurens smile and laugh, and it’s enough to make tolerating all the ‘boyfriend’ jokes they’re receiving (due to Alex still wearing Laurens’ jacket) worth it.

Alex really doesn’t even mind the jokes. 

The whole team is quite fond of Alex. They’re used to him almost always manning the water station- he’s so commonly assigned to varsity practice- so he fits in fairly well. They include him in their conversations just enough to entertain Alex, yet still give him time to just observe and enjoy. They even insist on paying for his food.

The night is just a whirlwind of laughing and teasing jokes and too many milkshakes to count- Alex is so caught up in it that he hardly realizes that he made his way home with Laurens’ jacket still on his back.

.

The next practice comes quickly. Alex is back out at the med station, doling out water, and the players are yelling and clashing on the field.

It’s all going fine until Laurens goes down.

“Alex!” One of the players calls as everyone huddles around Laurens on the field.

Snapping his head up, Alex leaps over the benches and sprints out onto the field, over to where Laurens is laying on the ground.

“Move!” he snaps at the players crowded around, blocking the player from view. He kneels down next to Laurens and places a comforting hand on his shoulder as he scans the athlete’s body, looking for an obvious injury.

The hazel-eyed boy looks up and makes fleeting eye contact with Alex, his jaw clenched tightly. Alex swallows before resuming his visual exam.

“Head. It’s my head,” Laurens clarifies for Alex. “Herc here rammed right into me! Laid me right out on the ground.”

“Sorry man!” Hercules hangs his head in shame, a few feet away.

“Alright,” Alex rocks back on his heels. “Can you answer some questions for me?”

Laurens nods slightly.

“Are you dizzy or nauseous?” 

“Nah,” Laurens shakes his head, but then winces. “Killer headache.”

“Did he lose consciousness?” Alex asks, glaring at Hercules- a bit too harshly. It’d been an accident.

“Nope,” Hercules shakes his head. “I really am sorry, man. I’ll look where I’m goin’ next time.”

“You better,” Laurens teases halfheartedly. He winces again and squeezes his pretty eyes shut.

“Alright, let’s get him off the field,” Alex declares. “Back up, guys.”

It was only then that Alex realizes his hand is still on Laurens’ shoulder. Blushing, he instead reaches for the boy’s hand.

Lauren’s soft fingers interlock with Alex’s and the smaller, yet strong, boy pulls the runningback to his feet. Laurens stumbles and braces himself against Alex’s shoulders- and then suddenly Alex has an armful of football player.

“Alright, easy there,” Alex braces against the weight of the 6’0 athlete, wrapping an arm around his waist to stabilize him. “Get your legs under you…”

Laurens pauses, his face pushed into Alex’s shoulder as he heaves a breath, before straightening up. He sways a bit and Alex tightens his arm around his waist.

“Head’s pounding,” Laurens mumbles, voice slurred. “Help me out here, Lex.”

Alex squeaks as the boy stumbles again and pushes back into his chest.

“Okay, you’re not gonna be walking,” Alex concedes, lowering the boy to the ground again. “We’ll sit here until you’re good to walk, okay?”

Laurens notes that Alex’s voice is surprisingly soft and comforting, and that stills his pounding heart a little bit. Does nothing for his head, though.

Laurens- Alex offhandedly notes that he really ought to just call him ‘John’- holds himself up in a sitting position with great effort. Alex scoots closer and puts an arm around his shoulders to help out a bit. John sighs.

“Hurts, Alex,” John murmurs, pressing on the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Hurts real bad.”

“I know,” Alex murmurs. “I can’t do much until you can walk. Just try to sit still.”

“Let’s go, boys,” the coach calls. “We can still play on the other side of the field.”

“Someone grab me a water bottle first,” Alex orders.

A boy runs off to grab one, and tosses it at Alex when he’s within a few feet.

He offers the water to John, who gratefully takes a big swig of it.

A moment later, John tries to push himself to his feet- with no warning. Alex lurches up and places a soft hand on his chest, stilling the boy.

“Easy there,” he says. “Give me your hand. One, two, three, up!”

Finally, John is standing- by himself, without shoving his face into Alex’s shoulder or swaying so much that Alex has to perpetually side-hug him.

The two finally make it over to the med table, where John can lay down once more.

Alex runs through his tests quickly and efficiently. It’s evident that John has a low-grade concussion, and Alex orders him to go home and rest for at least the rest of the weekend before gradually returning to play.

“I’ll drive you home,” Alex offers nonchalantly. “The least I can do.”

John is too tired to protest. Soon, he’s leaning against the window in his own car while Alex tries to turn the damn thing on.

“You have to ho-,” John is about to give the boy instructions but Alex manages to figure it out and the car whirrs to life.

Alex safely delivers John back home, and ensures he gets himself to bed before he lets himself walk back to his house- just a few miles away. He’s shivering in the cold but he knows it’s worth it- John is safe and sound.

Alex spends the rest of his night doing homework.

  
  



End file.
